


The Woods

by StAnni



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: “Do you think they’re okay?” Derek asks and Stiles’ heart constricts.  He hasn’t dared to think about the rest of Derek’s pack who had to scatter, like them, into the woods after the attack.  Derek hasn’t been able to sense them, and having the trackers out there, on their tracks, has not been able to call to them either.  Stiles knows that Derek must hear his heartbeat pick up and he tries to slow his breathing. “I hope so.” he says, because there really isn’t anything else he can say.  Derek had an impossible choice.  And he chose Stiles.





	The Woods

They have been going for three days and the woods are still thick around them. There has been a single clearing, a day or so ago, and they skirted along the edge, keeping an eye on the treeline. 

Derek is carrying the heavier of the bags and the water supply, but Stiles still lags behind – his leg, healed now – but still tender, slowing him down.

When they finally stop at a shallow stream to wash up and replenish the water, Derek tosses him the last quarter of a chocolate bar “You need the sugar” he says and Stiles, though thankful, is more irritated by the fact that he does indeed need the sugar, more than Derek’s way of pointing it out. 

Derek walks a wide circle around them as Stiles pulls off his shirt and dunks it in the water. “Can you still hear ‘em?” Stiles asks and Derek shakes his head, still listening “No. I think we’re good.”

Stiles sinks onto the ground in unabashed relief and Derek gives him a concerned look. “Let’s just build camp, we can see if we can cover more ground again tomorrow.”

For most of the three days they have been chasing quietly, basically jogging and staying to the rocks, so as not to make too much noise through the underbrush. So in addition to having a sore leg, Stiles’ feet are killing him as well. He nods in relief and Derek pulls the bag from his own back, where it lands with a dusty thud.

After the sun goes down Derek makes a sheltered fire and pulls two logs together for them to sit on. His hand is warm on Stiles’ knee as he looks at the healing wound on his calf and his brow furrows quietly. Stiles nudges him, softly “It’s fine, it’s not that bad to walk on even.” But Derek still looks worried and squeezes his knee softly before moving off his thigh. “We’ll find somewhere we can lay low for a while.” Derek offers and Stiles feels a pang of regret ever having complained about his stupid leg. The only reason he is still alive is because of Derek. “I know, I’m good.” He tries with a nod and Derek gives him an unconvinced smirk before returning a morose stare at the fire.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Derek asks and Stiles’ heart constricts. He hasn’t dared to think about the rest of Derek’s pack who had to scatter, like them, into the woods after the attack. Derek hasn’t been able to sense them, and having the trackers out there, on their tracks, has not been able to call to them either. Stiles knows that Derek must hear his heartbeat pick up and he tries to slow his breathing. “I hope so.” he says, because there really isn’t anything else he can say. Derek had an impossible choice. And he chose Stiles.

The silence that settles is not the silence that Stiles has grown accustomed to with Derek in his life – it is not comfortable and warm. He can feel the worry emanating from Derek. He can see all the thoughts racing behind his dark eyes.

They haven’t been together, intimately, since the night before they had to run and from there on it has only been one long chase. Derek isn’t usually the one to initiate but tonight is different. When Stiles comes back from taking a leak a couple of dozen feet from their fire, Derek pulls him firmly, almost desperately, down and against him, opens his mouth on Stiles’ and works an eager palm into the front of his slacks.  
Stiles, with no intention of shirking Derek’s attentions, pulls Derek close, roughly, and snakes his hand down the small of Derek’s muscled back, into his jeans against the gasp of Derek’s mouth against his. Within only a few minutes Derek rolls them over and ruts with stifled grunts as Stiles pushes two fingers into Derek. 

After Derek spills, breathing raggedly, his cock hanging heavy from his unzipped jeans – his seed warm on Stiles’ stomach, Stiles surges up against Derek’s soft open mouth, his need insatiable but his chest tight with tender gratitude, and kisses him like they used to do before, back when things weren’t fucked up, like a lover. 

Derek moans but the sound is swallowed between them as Derek leans back, pushes his jeans all the way down his thighs and allows Stiles to line his leaking cock up to Derek’s hole. It is brief, intense and utterly overwhelming. As Derek groans quietly against the final thrust - Stiles collapses in a shuddering orgasm, feeling the pinpricks of small rocks embed in his palms as he pushes forward.

After, in the silence of the midnight woods around them, he pushes back against Derek’s warm chest – the steady beat of his heart thudding against Stiles’ back.  
“Sleep for a bit.” Stiles says, and Derek gives a low grunt – already on the periphery of dreams. “I’ll take the first watch.”


End file.
